Injection Site: A CSI:NY Novel
by RyderBPD
Summary: *AU: Aiden's still alive, and Detective Maka's part of the crew too.* Love isn't the only thing in the air when a bioterrorist strikes at the heart of New York City--and hits the CSI team. Rated M for religiously motivated terrorism and sexual content.
1. Prologue

**Injection Site**

**Author's Note: **This novel takes place directly following the catching of the Cabbie Killer at the end of Season 4. Rated M for material regarding religiously motivated terrorism and sexual content. (Look out for the sexy stuff particularly in Chapter 4, for those of you who like to skip to the juicy parts!) :)

Please note that I personally do not hold the extreme religious viewpoints of my troubled character, Levi Ben-David. I happen to think that both Palestinians and Jews are lovely people.

This work is the property of Stephanie J. Hartford and may not be reproduced or reposted without my express permission. All CSI:NY Characters belong to CBS. Liz Ryder belongs to yours truly.

* * *

**Prologue**

No sounds could be heard in the bathroom as the middle stall's occupant sat on the closed toilet, staring at a full syringe. The young man's clothing was slightly rumpled, but that was to be expected at four in the morning. For the millionth time, he pulled the travel documents from his jacket pocket and bored his eyes into the symbol of the squatters. An eagle representing those disgusting peasants who had stolen the land that God gave to his great ancestors. The Palestinian passport gave his name as Karim Abdullah, a dark-skinned communications expert from Rafah. In reality, though, he answered to Levi Ben-David. _Son of David. Son of Israel_. He looked to his name for courage in this, the moment of truth.

In his mind, Levi heard the words of his leader soothe the fear that was rising within his chest. "Think of the place you shall have amongst God's heroes, my son," Rabbi Goldman had said, pausing in the midst of applying Levi's makeup. "It is you that will bring peace to the Israeli people." Rabbi Goldman was the Godliest man Levi knew--he could literally see the Almighty shining through the master's eyes when he spoke. And so Levi would trust the Rabbi—would ignore any nagging fears about a painful death and fulfill his duty to God.

Calmly, Levi placed the falsified passport back in his jacket and gazed upon the syringe one last time. Lifting his white button-down shirt just enough to expose a patch of abdominal skin, the devout youth whispered a short prayer: "Yahweh, give me strength." Inhaling sharply, Levi plunged the needle into his side and gasped—not in pain, but in rapture as he saw a glimpse of Heaven's glorious white light that would envelop him within hours. Depressing the plunger until all of the blue liquid was gone, God's obedient soldier tossed the empty sharp into the seat cover dispenser, stood up and grabbed his shoulder bag.

Exiting the bathroom, Levi went to catch his flight to New York City.


	2. Young Guns

**Chapter One: Young Guns**

_I don't really care what nobody think_  
_Let's get crazy tonight_  
_Lookin' all hot and spendin' them Gs_  
_We are crazy alright_

Bass and rainbow-colored lights bounced around the club, raising temperatures and heart rates with ease. Full but not uncomfortably packed for a Friday night, _Blue_ was the place to be for Manhattan's early thirties crowd. Every corner of the joint sported a group of young professionals even more gorgeous than the last. Toward the back of the club, four guys had their eyes transfixed on five fine women dancing before them.

"That," said Detective Don Flack, "is the hottest thing I have ever seen."

Doctor Sheldon Hawkes, Detective Danny Messer and CSI Adam Ross could only nod in agreement, struck dumb by the sight in front of their eyes. Perhaps it would have been easier for them to ignore if the women had been strangers, but the five knockouts writhing on and around each other were well-known to the four gentlemen.

Three brunettes, a blonde and a redhead comprised the collection of gape-worthy beauty. Detectives Aiden Burn, Kaile Maka and Jessica Angell accounted for the police presence, while lab tech Kendall Novak added some science speak spice into the mix. Rounding out the pantheon of goddesses was Doctor Elizabeth Ryder, a former Boston Police Department officer turned psychiatrist & psychotherapist. Liz's bright green eyes were shining as she broke away from the pack and came striding over to the table of men. Dressed in tight indigo jeans and a low-cut emerald-colored shirt, her muscular arms waved in the air as she kept moving to the music. "C'mon, guys," she insisted. "First one off their ass gets to dance with all five of us at once."

Danny, Flack and Hawkes all shook their heads, trying to play it cool. "We're good, Lizzie," said Flack. "We like the view just fine from where we are." Liz sighed and shook her head. "Fine. Have it your way." She moved to rejoin her fellow sirens when Adam said, "Uh, Liz? Hey, wait up! I'm comin' with ya!" He practically leapt over the table, drawing laughter from the rest of the boys. As promised, Liz led Adam back to the circle of girls and placed him in the middle. The ensuing look on Adam's face was priceless.

Danny's laughter faded first, and sitting back against the leather booth, he let out a big sigh. Flack and Hawkes turned to their buddy at the same time, with Flack voicing the thoughts of both men: "Danno, you're not still thinkin' about Lindsay, are ya?"

Messer took a hand and first rubbed it vigorously over his visibly fatigued face--then pushed it roughly through his spiky crown of brownish-blondish hair. His slightly bloodshot blue eyes betrayed the true answer even as he said, "Nah. Just been a long week is all. Mac really rode my ass about that specimen I fucked up."

The truth was that Danny hadn't been able to shake thoughts of Lindsay Monroe for more than a few minutes at a time, which was the reason he'd dropped the blood sample in the first place. But although he trusted his boss with many things, it wasn't his style to sit down and get all touchy-feely with Mac about breakups—and definitely not this one. His relationship with Linds had been tough from the get-go. _That stuff about work hook-ups bein' complicated ain't no lie,_ he thought. Although laced with tenderness and bursts of intense passion, the time Lindsay and Danny had spent together had also been marked by misunderstandings, deceit, and frustration. Messer knew that he'd been in the wrong for sleeping with another woman, but he also knew that he didn't deserve the shrewish guilt-tripping Lindsay'd thrown at him after he'd copped to cheating.

And although he missed her, he admitted it was for the best that she'd gone back to Montana. _She was never gonna hack it as a New Yorker anyway_. Also, the second that plane took off for Bozeman, Aiden had come striding back into his life. He'd pushed one of his best friends away at Lindsay's subtle behest, passing up Yanks games and streetside knishes in favor of candlelit dinners and elaborate birthday presents. _She had me so damn whipped,_ Danny thought. _This love crap really changes a guy. _

Just then, Aiden interrupted Danny's train of thought by walking up to the table. Her black dress pants slid smoothly along the seat of the booth, and she broke into a huge grin while elbowing Danny in the ribs. The red and orange stripes of a strapless top hugged her torso tightly and made her dark brown eyes sparkle. "Missin' a good time out there, Mess," she said. "Maka's quite the dancer, ya know." Danny couldn't help but smile at the sight of Aiden's full lips pursed to give him a knowing look. He and Kaile had circled around each other for years, and now that Lindsay was gone Aiden wanted to make sure Messer ended up with the right woman this time.

He brushed it aside for the moment. "I'll keep that in mind there, disco inferno. Where'd you pick up those moves anyway? Catch 'Saturday Night Fever' on TV one too many times?" Aiden gave Danny a little knock upside the head with her hand, then reached up to sweep cascading waves of black hair out of her face. "I'm not even gonna acknowledge that," she said, haughtily. "You Staten Island guys wouldn't know how to move if a beat came up and smacked you in the ass."

Messer looked across the table at Detective Flack, expecting a few jabs from the Queens native. However, Flack's brilliant blue eyes were fixed on the sight of Detective Jessica Angell moving her hips in time with the club's music. Her dark red sleeveless top draped perfectly around a toned chest and contrasted nicely with the black skirt she was rockin', and yet it wasn't the clothes or her body that kept Flack's gaze. He simply could not get enough of her smile. When those rose-pink lips parted, the ensuing flash of perfect teeth was practically blinding. Jess bent over to adjust one of her Sudini calf-length boots and caught Flack looking at her. She smiled, winked and straightened back up to keep dancing with Liz. The two women bent their heads together for a moment, and Flack felt like he was back in junior high. _Are they talkin' about me? _

Aiden reached across the table and gave Flack's left ear a hard flick. "Ow! What was that for, Aiden? Damn! You Brooklyn girls!"

Aiden nodded her head towards Jess. "When you gonna get on that?"

Flack brought a large hand to his chest and gave Aiden an effeminately puzzled look. "I have no idea what you're talkin' about, Detective Burn."

"Uh-huh. Just sack up and ask her out, Flack. I mean Jesus, for all our sake's—you guys have been flirtin' like a coupla high schoolers for forever."

Detective Flack's forehead wrinkled under his gelled swatch of short black hair. "Maybe I don't wanna be a one-woman guy, Aiden. Maybe I _like_ just flirtin' with Jess. Ever think of that?"

Danny shook his head disapprovingly. "Don't listen to him, Aid. He's all worried 'cause the 1-2's thinkin' about makin' her his partner. Whaddya gonna say then, Flack? 'Sorry, chief, no can do—I haven't nailed her yet'?"

"Nail who?" Jess' strong voice shot across the table and straight into Flack's chest. She, Liz and Kaile were out of breath from dancing, and Flack couldn't help but wonder what else might make Detective Angell breathe heavily. "Um—nothin'," Flack said, coughing and turning red. "Want some water after your workout?" "Screw the water, Don—I need a drink!" Tossing her dark brown hair out of her face, Jess grabbed the pitcher of Killian's in the middle of the table and poured herself an ample glass, downing half of it in one go. _Shit,_ Flack thought. _I think I'm in love. _

Jess motioned that Liz should sit next to Flack, but Doctor Ryder had other plans. "Oh no, hon, you go ahead. I'm hittin' the bathroom." So saying, she grabbed her purse and caught Flack's eye as Detective Angell moved towards him. _You better thank me later, _said her smug smile. "Hey, me too, Liz," said Aiden. "Wait up." The dark-eyed brunette jumped up, making room for Kaile to snag the spot next to Danny. Turning her jet-black head of hair towards Detective Messer, Maka promptly took up Aiden's mantle and began ragging on Danny for shirking the dance floor.

Adam and Kendall finally made their way back to the table, giggling and flirting. Adam was attempting to impress his dance partner with exaggerated tales of heroism. "Well, y'know, I'm not trying to brag or anything, but I was partially responsible for sending those IRA terrorists packing." Kendall was having none of it, though. "Really? Because from what I heard, it was Messer who actually squirted the acid into their eyes." Adam looked a little crestfallen until Danny came to the rescue with a few props. "Well, ya know, it mighta been me that finished off the bastards, but if Adam hadn't gotten the acid in the first place, we might not even be here. And those taped-up cops? They woulda been dead meat if your boy there hadn't a run out to tell Flack they were blues." Adam's mouth formed into a 'thank you' behind Kendall's back, and when she turned around he did his best to give her a suave smile. "All in a day's work, Ms. Novak."

Kendall's bright red lipstick set off the light blue top that was exposing a good portion of her lovely neckline, and Adam was clearly enamored with the entire package. "Okay guys, I think I'm gonna get outta here," Kendall said, shaking her head to realign her hair. "There's a Central Park Slip N' Slide party going down in twenty minutes." Snatching her raspberry-colored sweater from a hook at the edge of the booth, the long-legged blonde searched the eyes of her companions. "Anyone wanna come?" Ten eyes shifted to Adam and gave him five insistent stares. "Oh! Uh, yeah, Kendall, I'll go with ya. Woohoo, plastic!" He gave an enthusiastic fist pump, almost hitting another club patron behind him. Flack tossed Adam his jacket and said, "Get outta here, kids. Be good." "Aww, look at that, old man Flack," Jess teased, patting Flack's thigh. "Just lookin' out for those crazy whippersnappers, aren't ya?" Don smiled and shrugged, unable to speak due to the electric shock Jess' fingertips had just sent coursing through his body.

Liz and Aiden returned from the bathroom with knowing looks in their eyes, a fact evident only to their male best friends. The conversation began to flow around the table as easily as the beer, laced with plenty of laughter and good-natured joking. At one point, though, Sheldon shared some chilling research with the rest of the team. "I'm tellin' you, guys, the next real frontier of terrorism is going to be pharmacological in nature. We are drastically underprepared for the atrocities that bioterrorism could wreak upon us."

"The anti-terrorism squad does its best to keep up-to-date, Doc," Flack said. "It's hard tryin' to figure out what to put your resources into. How much do ya head off the current attacks from bombs and planes—and how much do you try and figure out what's comin' at ya next?"

"Both, as much as you can, I guess," Jess replied, tackling Flack's rhetorical question. "You gotta have balls of steel to do any of that work, though—I know that much. I've got a friend in the unit that does the building sweeps around Ground Zero. It's one thing to walk a beat and wonder about which thugs are packin', but going to work everyday and doing stuff that might get ya blown up? No thanks."

"Liz, what's the deal up in Boston?" Kaile's beautiful almond-shaped eyes had a serious look about them. "You guys ready if something like that goes down?"

"Well, since I only work at PD half-time I don't know the full extent of their preparation level," replied Dr. Ryder. "There is, of course, an anti-terrorism unit, but they generally concern themselves with the kind of physical threats Jess and Flack are talkin' about." She took a sip of her beer and continued. "What I do know is that there's been quite the increase in the development of substances designed to cripple major cities—not only physically, but psychologically as well."

"Whaddya mean 'psychologically,' Doc?" Danny's voice was drenched in skepticism. "Sounds like a Batman villain's plot gone wrong." Messer changed his voice to that of a news announcer. 'Next at 10—Gotham City driven crazy by drugs in the water! Stock tradin' shmucks cluckin' like chickens on Wall Street!'"

Everyone laughed, including Liz—but the good Doctor's green eyes still glittered with intensity. "Yeah, yeah, yuk it up, Messer. Just don't come cryin' to me when your brain needs to be put back together."

The conversation drifted back into the realm of lighter things, and excited voices discussing everything from the latest Tod's handbags to the craptastic start the Yankees were off to flew around the table. Liz had little compassion for her tablemates at the introduction of this last topic. "Awww, look at all your little long faces," said the avid Red Sox fan. "Doesn't look good for the post-season." Danny, Kaile and Jess all glared across the table at their ginger-haired friend, while Aiden and Flack snickered wickedly. It was Danny who put words to the Bronx Bomber fans' thoughts: "Ah, shut up, Doc. With your history of shitty second halves, you're gonna eat those words in October." "Whatever helps you and A-Roid sleep better at night, Messer."

Midnight approached, and Jess was the first to move in the direction of home. "Well, kids, I think I'm gonna go get some sleep," she said, pulling her XCVI black leather jacket about her shoulders. "I'm back on duty tomorrow at 9." "Hey, Jess, lemme walk ya to your car," blurted Flack. Angell gave him a surprised look, which prompted him to stutter, "I mean, obviously you can take care of yourself, what with your piece and all—I just wondered if you wanted some company." "Sure, Don," Jess replied, smiling such that her eyes disappeared into cute lines along the sides of her face. "Let's go." She began making her way through the spinning, twisting, ass-shaking crowd, leaving Flack in the dust. Don jumped up and turned to leave when Liz spoke up from her spot next to Sheldon. "D!" "Yeah?" "Y'know, if you're feelin' kinda tired and feel like goin' home—or to someone else's home, for that matter—don't worry about me. Aiden said I could crash with her."

Flack's bright blue eyes widened, and his thick lips twisted into a wicked grin. He pointed excitedly at his friend. "I owe ya one, Lizzie," he said, grabbing his wallet and practically sprinting out of the club. "You're damn right ya do!" shouted Liz to Don's quickly fleeing back, drawing laughs from the rest of the table. Dr. Ryder looked at Aiden devilishly. Half their plan was complete. Now to get Messer set for the night. Five minutes later, their chance came. Detective Maka's petite mouth twisted into a yawn and uttered, "All right, looks like I'm done for the night too." Danny turned to look at Kaile, and tried to muster up something smart to say. Something to let her know he was still attracted to her, even after all this time. Unfortunately, all he could see was Lindsay, smiling but with her hands on her hips. The very essence of their relationship—explosive chemistry and destructive fights. Aiden saw the glazed look in her friend's eyes and took over. "Danny, isn't your apartment close to Kaile's?"

Danny snapped out of it. "Huh? Oh, uh, well, I don't know, actually. I'm up near the stadium." Aiden glared at him, and he quickly caught on and added, "But I'd be happy to take ya home if ya need a ride." "Thanks, Messer," Kaile said, her sparkly purple top setting off the reddish highlights in her hair. "I'm in Midtown." Messer managed a genuine smile, his first of the night. "All right then, _Detective Maka_, let's roll." "You're never gonna let me live that one down, are ya?" "Nope." On his way out of the club booth, Danny grasped Aiden's shoulder and squeezed tightly. _Thank you, _said his fingers to her skin. _Thanks for carin'. _

And then there were three. Liz and Aiden moved to flank Dr. Hawkes in the middle of the booth, and he jokingly placed his arms around both ladies. "Ahhhh," he said. "This is the life. You know, you two should set up a matchmaking service." Both women pretended to be aghast at the suggestion. "Dr. Hawkes, we have no idea what you're talking about," said Liz in her thick Boston accent. "We just wanted to see our friends get home in a safe and efficient manner." "Right," replied Sheldon, his chocolate skin rife with bemusement. "I haven't seen puppetry that sophisticated since Cirque de Soleil." "Hey, can ya blame us?" asked Aiden. "Despite what they think, those two couldn't put the moves on a mannequin. They'll be thankin' us tomorrow."

"I don't doubt it," said Hawkes. "Now, more importantly--would you lovely ladies like to dance?" "Thought you'd never ask, Dr. Hawkes," Liz replied, extending her fair-skinned hand. "I love this song!" "I'm gonna sit this one out, Docs." Liz pouted immediately, but Aiden waved her off. "Go on, move it." "Suit yourself, Aid, but you know nobody drops it like it's hot quite the way you do." Aiden laughed and watched her friends make their way back to the dance floor. Taking a drink of her beer, Detective Burn wrestled with her worry for Danny. On one hand, she was selfishly delighted that Monroe had taken her cowgirl ass back to Montana—for although Aiden and Danny had been friends for years, she couldn't stand the man Danny became when he was around Lindsay. Sappy, deferential and just all-around lame. Almost predictable, really. Nothing like the combative, quick-tongued smartass Aiden had come to trust so dearly.

_However,_ she reluctantly admitted, _if he really was in love with Monroe, then there musta been somethin' she did for him. Somethin' besides sex and rope braiding lessons. _She laughed aloud at her own bitchiness, then sighed. She just wanted Danny to be happy—wanted to hear the teasing cadence in his voice again, wanted to watch his hands wave wildly as he cursed Joba's struggles in the bullpen or see him bare those sharp canines in a teasing smile. So that meant getting him to snap out of the funk he'd been in since Lindsay left.

As Aiden watched Doctors Ryder and Hawkes moving together amongst the other partiers, she admitted to herself that part of her desire for Danny's return to normalcy was so that she could talk to him about something that had had been nagging at her for some time now. Although it was hard for her to admit (not to mention a huge surprise), she suspected she might now be attracted to both men and women. . .and was incredibly confused as a result.

Continuing to gaze upon her friends, she thought about the beauty she saw in both Sheldon and Liz. While she did appreciate the way Hawkes' white Lacoste button-down clung to his dark chest muscles, there was something about the way Liz's long legs moved in time with the music that Aiden found to be just gorgeous. Which is why she wanted to sit down with Messer and get his take on the situation. . .she knew she couldn't talk to her brothers, and Grandma would probably just pat her hand, saying it was a phase she'd grow out of. Good girls from Brooklyn just didn't swing both ways. By contrast, Danny might make a joke or two about pillow fights, but after seeing it was important to her, he'd listen. She knew it.

The song ended, and Liz and Hawkes rejoined Aiden at the table, snapping Detective Burn back out of her thoughts. "Well, girls, what do you say?" said Hawkes. "Can I put you in a cab and call it a night?" Aiden and Liz locked eyes, nodding. "Yeah, I think that sounds good. You good to go, chica?" "Yep, I'm cool." The three friends tossed some cash onto the table, grabbed their light coats and headed for the door. Sheldon playfully bumped his hips into both women as they exited the club, drawing smiles all around.

They emerged into the street, feeling the electric energy of a New York summer night swirling around their warm bodies. Hawkes hailed a cab and opened the door for both women—receiving two kisses on the cheek for his troubles. "Night, Shel," Aiden said. "See ya, Hawkes," came the line from Liz's red-lipped mouth. "Good night, my queens. Hope I see you again soon, Liz." "You got it," the tall redhead responded, resulting in a smug smile from Aiden. As the cab pulled away from the curb and took off into the night, Sheldon headed down the street in the other direction. It was a nice night for a walk—and for thinking about tall redheads at that.


	3. Interlude 1

Levi checked the watch wrapped around his makeup-tinted wrist. It had been two hours since the plane had left Heathrow, and if all was going to plan inside his body he would soon be the most lethal weapon to take to the air. The people sitting in his row were probably already infected, meaning they had the capacity to pass on the disease to a few others before dying later tonight. Now it was time to ensure that the rest of the plane became carriers of God's message as well.

Standing up and saying "excuse me" in a thick accent, Levi passed his two doomed seat neighbors and headed for the rear of the plane. The thick muscles in his thighs felt sluggish, perhaps partially from being seated for so long. But he knew the real cause of their failure. The Rabbi's elixir was working its magic, slowly seeping through his tissues and filling his every capillary with deadly poison. He reminded himself for the millionth time that he was dying for God and would be with Him soon. But first he had to complete the rest of his holy mission.

Levi stumbled a bit as he encountered one of the stewardesses outside the bathroom. "Oh, I am sorry," he said, again in the heavily accented speech. "It must have been the drink I had." The stewardess' painted red mouth smiled as she reached out to steady him. "Quite all right, sir," she offered in a smooth British accent. _Yes, dear woman, it is quite all right, _Levi thought. _Even moments away from death, I am exposing those head-scarfed vermin as the clumsy, vice-riddled scum they are._ He stepped into the bathroom and shut the door.

Once inside, Levi wasted no time. He drew another syringe filled with blue liquid from his jacket and placed it into his pants pocket, sharp side out. Placing one foot to the left of the toilet seat and the other on the sink, the Son of David stood up so that his nose was almost touching the ceiling. From a special compartment in his shoe, he pulled out a Leatherman multi-tool and drew out the largest blade. Taking special care to avoid the smoke detector (and the hefty fine for tampering with it, apparently), he punched four holes into the square of ceiling material directly above his head. Closing the blade and opening the pliers, Levi managed to pull away enough of the ceiling to expose four separate rubber tubes. He didn't hesitate for a second, quickly locating the white tube and grabbing it with his left hand. He didn't know how the Rabbi had discovered the location of the plane's ventilation system, but it didn't matter. Levi thrust the needle into the tube and emptied the syringe, then replaced the ceiling cover as best he could.

He tossed the needle into the garbage, then washed his hands—just as the world would soon be washing its hands of Palestine. Making his way back down the aisle, Levi noticed at least three people twisting the knobs that sent supposedly benign cool air into their faces. _If only they knew. _Levi returned to his seat, buckled up and closed his eyes for the last time. _I serve only you, O God,_ he prayed. _Take me so I may kneel at your feet._

An hour later, his body ceased to be that of Levi Ben-David—and became a host for Death.


	4. Two By Two

**Chapter Two: Two By Two**

Adam could feel his heart pounding as his feet crashed through a wooded section of Central Park. The handkerchief Kendall had tied over his eyes was starting to itch, but he shrugged off the discomfort in favor of giving in to excitement. _S'not every day a beautiful blonde chick blindfolds you and takes you to a midnight Slip N' Slide party_, he reminded himself. He pictured her thick golden hair streaming out into the night from behind her head, and wondered if she saw anything in him besides a dorky lab geek. Although Adam couldn't see it, Kendall turned around and flashed him a brilliant smile. "Not too long now," she said, teasingly.

After a few more minutes of playing guide, Kendall emerged into the Parque Posadas area of Central Park. Out of breath from the jog and giggling at Adam's confused expression, she decided to stop toying with Mr. Ross and untied the blindfold from behind his head.

To say that the sight meeting Adam's now-uncovered eyes was crazy would be an understatement. Running down the area between all six of the Parque Posadas' outfields was a gigantic sheet of plastic--a hundred feet long and twenty feet wide, it was split into 8 lanes, each with its own individually colored number. At least fifty twenty-something guys and girls in various types of water wear (bathing suits, shorts, bra and panty sets, even a rain slicker) were dumping buckets of water all over the huge Slip N' Slide. Music blared from the back of the truck the guerilla partiers had used to transport their containers of liquid fun:

_Somebody call 911!_  
_Shawty fire burnin' on the dance floor, whoa_  
_I gotta cool her down_  
_She wan' bring the roof to ground_  
_On the dance floor, whoa_

Having finally recovered enough to speak intelligently, Adam turned to Kendall to make a joke about fiery song lyrics playing in the midst of a water party, but the gorgeous lab tech was already running off towards the gathered masses. Upon reaching the head of the gargantuan plastic sheet, Kendall started stripping. _That water's gonna feel so good_, she thought. _Perfect way to wash off the stress of this stupid week. _She took off everything but her red cotton bra and matching underwear, which literally stopped Adam in his tracks as he came chasing after her. "Hey, wait up there, Speedy Gonzalez! I. . .uh, oh, wow! Um, yeah. Do you want me to, uh, hold your stuff for ya while you—y'know, slide?"

Kendall grinned and nodded, cocking her right hip to the side as she twisted her long locks into a ponytail. "Aw, thanks Adam! That's sweet. After I'm done we'll switch and you'll go!" Adam's eyes widened and he tried to dissuade his lovely companion, stammering, "No, no, no—that's cool. I'm good with just watching you, and uh, making sure nobody takes your stuff."Kendall waved him off as one might dismiss a ridiculous tabloid story, shaking her head. "Nice try, Bambi! Enjoy your dry boxers while you can!"

So saying, Kendall grabbed a couple dollars from her purse and jetted off towards the crowd. Adam noted that although she started near the back of the mob, the object of his affections soon made her way to the very front of the line. _What a surprise,_ he thought. _She could probably get the President to give up his nuclear codes with that smile._ Kendall handed her money to a guy holding the collection box (big ass sheets of plastic weren't cheap), got hosed down by that night's luckiest man in New York City and took her place at the starting line of Lane 7. She set her jaw and grinned wickedly as she sized up the other bikini-clad competitors. When all the singles had been successfully stuffed in the slot, a guy in red Lifeguard shorts carrying a whistle and brandishing a bullhorn got up on a ladder. "All right, ladies!" he said. "First race of the night! You all know the rules—gotta start your slide after five running steps! After you come to a stop, put your palms flat on the plastic to show where you got to! And no cheating!"

Adam relaxed and grinned as the eight wet women prepared for battle. The "lifeguard" blew his whistle, and the night's first heat of Slip N' Slide racing was underway! Kendall used her long legs to work up massive amounts of potential energy with her allotted five steps, and when it came time to slide she put her head down, placed her hands in a V-shape in front of her face and away she went! Her body slid smoothly over the wet plastic, and when she finally came to a stop she was well ahead of her competitors. As instructed, Kendall extended her palms in front of her, and within seconds a guy in flip-flops and Bermuda shorts first helped her to her feet, then raised her arm in victory. The crowd went crazy, and Kendall smiled through the water on her face. "Wahoo!" she yelled.

As Kendall walked back over to where Adam was standing, the resident tech king of the forensics lab found himself in awe of his colleague's beauty. Every minute movement of her body was sexy—everything from the way her fingernails raked through her wet hair as she put her ponytail back together to the light steps she was taking across the damp grass of Central Park. The Arizona native made up his mind and started shedding his own clothes, getting down to his boxers just as Kendall strolled up. "Change your mind, Mr. Big Baby?"

"I'm not goin' on the slide," he said, his voice full of confidence.

"Oh no?"

Adam stepped closer to Kendall, reaching out and caressing her cheek with his hand. "Nah. I got a better idea." Grinning, he pulled Kendall's wet body to his dry chest and confidently placed his mouth over hers. She seemed stunned for a second, but soon kissed back with equal force. The two brilliant scientists released each others' lips, eyed each other hungrily, then sprinted out of the park towards any form of transportation that would take them to Kendall's apartment in Chelsea.

*****

Much to Flack's dismay, Angell's car was parked only a few blocks away from the entrance to _Blue,_ and thus he caught himself consciously shortening his strides to make the minutes last. As with so many other times over the last few months, Don really wanted to ask Jess if she'd come back to his place--but he couldn't make himself utter the words. He didn't want to screw up the chemistry they already had. _Jess ain't like the other chicks I've been with, _he thought. _She's beautiful, yeah, but smart and damned funny too. And she knows what it means to have to get outta bed at two in the mornin' for a 187._ The beer and Jess' beauty had thrown him off his regular game, and so instead of spittin' lines, he found himself content to just marvel at her tight figure. Her eyes were currently turned towards the sky, and he took the moment to query, "Hey, whatcha lookin' for, Detective? I don't think anyone in this city's seen a star since 1973."

She laughed, her shimmering lips parting to bring forth just a tiny glimpse of her tongue. "Just lookin' at my city, Flack. And wishing I didn't have to go to work tomorrow morning." The two cops reached Jess' beat-up dark blue Ford, and Angell was about to unlock her door when she decided just to go for it. _Screw what anyone else thinks, _she thought_._ She turned around and leaned up against the window a little bit. "How're you gettin' home, Don?"

Jolted out of his simple "walk Jess to her car" plan, he faltered for a half a second before catching himself and shrugging. "Me? Oh, uh, I was just gonna take a cab. No big deal." Jess grinned and looked straight into Flack's gorgeous blue eyes. "I've downed enough beer for one night, but I think I might have a glass of wine before bed. You interested in joining me?"

How Flack managed to keep from responding with "Hell yeah!" was beyond his comprehension. But somehow he maintained the perfect front of nonchalance, saying, "Yeah, sure, that'd be nice. But didn't you say you had to work early tomorrow?" Here Angell pretended to be hurt and sighed in an exaggerated fashion. "Hey, it's okay. I get it. If you're not interested, you're not interested." Flack's façade of cool fell in an instant. "Whoa, hey, hold on! That's not what I meant! I just thought you said you had to work early, and I didn't want you to be tired or worn out or somethin' tomorrow." Jess took a step towards Don and raised her eyebrows. She dropped her voice a bit and said, "You think you could wear me out, Detective?"

The sleeping tiger of Flack's accumulated feelings for Angell roared to life in the wake of her teasing, and he could feel his body temperature rise in response to the beautiful temptress standing before him. He took his own step towards her and took her face in his right hand. "I'm sure as hell gonna try," he half-growled.

Flack brought his mouth to meet Jess' lips, and backed her up into the driver's side door of the Ford. Jess had never had a first kiss like it. . .Don's lips were strong, yet moved around her own with gentility and ease. As for Flack, he proceeded to get even more turned on at his first taste of Jess' tongue--the way she deftly slipped it in and out of his mouth felt incredible. He moved his hand from her face to the back of her head, and plunged his fingers into the waves of her soft dark hair. She reached under his jacket and dug her nails into his right hip, threatening to head for the toned ass filling out his jeans.

Finally they broke away from one another, gasping for air and smiling. Without a word, Flack ran around to the passenger side of the car and, with a wild look in his eyes, waited for Jess to unlock the doors. Once inside, two of New York's finest shared another deep kiss, fastened their seat belts, and sped off in the direction of Jess' apartment in Queens.

*

As Danny eased his ancient Alfa Romeo down the streets of Midtown, he thought about how weird it was that he actually _could_ give Kaile a ride home tonight. Usually on a summer night like this he'd be riding his bike, but the damn thing was in the shop again. He was convinced Lindsay'd done something to it in order to prevent him from riding. She hated his Harley, hated the accidents he could have gotten into. _One more strike against Montana,_ he thought. _Maybe I'm gettin' the hang of her bein' gone._ Whatever the reason for his bike's troubles, he didn't feel like messing with the subway. Or a cab, for that matter. It was too close to the end of the Cabbie Killer case for him to be jumpin' in the back of a Yellow anytime soon.

Complain as he might about it, Danny loved his little green sports car. "If I gotta own a four-wheeler," he'd said to Flack, "it might as well be Italian." Messer snapped out of his automotive musings to steal a glance at the passenger seat's current occupant. Kaile was leaning on her right hand and gazing out the window, tapping a purple-painted fingernail on her perfectly straight teeth. Danny loved seeing Maka in something other than her work clothes—although he admitted that she looked pretty damn good in those as well.

Kaile turned her head from the window and caught Danny giving her a once-over. "What's up, Messer?" Maka was brimming with excitement at the possibilities for the rest of the evening, but had also used her Detective skills to discover all the details of Danny's recent break-up. As Maka studied Danny's face, she found many of the elements she'd first been attracted to so long ago—strong jaw, great smile, crazy hair—and yet there were others that had only been added recently. His oceanic eyes appeared sadder, older even. And his sense of humor, although still as sharp as ever, was only making very rare appearances. _I guess the death of that Ruben kid really got to him_, Kaile thought. _That'd probably put me outta commission for awhile too._ "Whatcha thinkin' about?"

Danny smiled and gave a little embarrassed laugh. "Y'know, I was actually thinkin' about that crazy dead bride case four years ago. You remember that?"

Maka thought about it. "Oh yeah! Yeah, I do. Dead doves and a deader wife-to-be. What made ya think of it?"

"Well, I remember you tellin' me you were attracted to a guy with a dark sense of humor—and I never told ya this before, but for a while after that I actually tried to have a few morbid jokes ready for whenever I saw you. Y'know, use the DBs to score a few more points."

By this time, Danny had parked the Alfa on Kaile's tree-lined street. Although it was twelve-thirty in the morning, the block still buzzed with life and lights. Friday night was now Saturday morning, but the parties weren't going to wind down anytime soon. Detective Messer unbuckled his seatbelt and turned his body towards Kaile, placing his right arm around the back of the passenger seat. Maka had laughed at Danny's earlier revelation, but in looking into his eyes she became aware of just how forced his flirting was. So she pulled a Maka and cut through the crap.

"Messer," Kaile said, "I was going to ask you to come upstairs, but I'm thinkin' that may need to wait until another day. You should go home and get some sleep."

Danny's eyes widened. "Kaile. I've been lookin' forward to this for a long time. Why would I wanna pass it up for a few winks?!"

"Look, Danny, believe me—I want it too. I've wanted it for a long time now. But I think you've got some stuff that you need to take care of."

Messer leaned back on the headrest and exhaled heavily. "So what, now, I gotta prove to you that I'm over Lindsay before we sleep together?! Is that it?" He gazed at the gorgeous Asian woman sitting next to him and immediately regretted the statement. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Kaile. You're right. Clearly I got a lotta shit goin' on. I just was excited about stayin' over, that's all."

"Messer, I'm the last one who's gonna demand a relationship from you, okay? I'm not the ultimatum type. It's just that tonight I'm more concerned about my friend getting better than about getting into his pants. And really, if you think about it, you sitting next to me in the club and taking me home was all Aiden's doing anyway." Kaile gave Danny a little side smile, which he returned in kind. "Besides," Maka said, "when you're finally in bed with me you won't be able to think about anybody else anyway."

Messer scoffed. "You're not makin' this easy, Detective Maka." "I know. But it's more fun that way. Now go home. That's an order from a woman with an arm of steel." Danny dropped his head and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, okay."

"Thanks for the ride, Messer." Kaile unbuckled her seatbelt, then leaned over and quickly kissed Danny on the mouth.

"What was that for?"

"Call it a preview." She grinned wickedly, then stepped out of the car and waved goodbye. Danny watched her tiny but strong frame walk confidently towards the door of her building. He waited until she buzzed in, then lightly smacked his head on the steering wheel. _Now I __know__ Montana got to me. I couldn't stop thinkin' about her cute little smile long enough to get between Kaile's sheets. I bet she'd taste damn good, too. What the hell is wrong with me?!_ He had to admire Maka's insight and honesty, though. She'd read the heart he'd stuck on his sleeve and did what she thought was best for her friend.

Which, of course, only made him want her more at the moment.

After a few more minutes deep in thought, Danny brought the car to life, turned around, and headed north--towards the Bronx and his bed.

*


	5. Interlude 2

The kink in Emma Meriweather's neck had gone from a quietly nagging twinge to a screaming banshee, and so the brilliant twenty-eight year old marketing executive took a grumbling leave from her seat. Standing up and moving into the 777's aisle, she closed tired blue eyes and rubbed the long fingers of her left hand over furious muscles. _Two more hours, _she thought. _Then I'll sleep for a week. _

She felt the chilled kiss of platinum on her left ring finger and smiled at the thought of the gorgeous man awaiting her arrival. Tyrus' beautiful dark skin had graced her dreams the entire time she was in London—and her fiancé knew it, too. All week long his deep voice had snaked across the ocean and through her BlackBerry, teasing her about his plan to show her the true meaning of 'chocolate decadence' when she got home to Manhattan.

Emma's stomach lurched suddenly, and she clutched at her abdomen in surprise. _Huh. Turbulence, maybe? _She looked around and noticed a few of her other cabinmates making slightly acidic faces as well. In fact, the only nearby passenger who seemed to be immune to the nausea was at the end of her row. His face was pressed into the window, leaving a streak of what looked like foundation behind. Emma was about to mentally congratulate the gentleman on his iron constitution when she realized that he was unlike any other sleeping man she'd ever seen. No snoring. No drooling. _No breathing. _

"Stewardess!" Emma screamed.


	6. Experimentation and Exploration

**Author's Note: If you're not a fan of girls kissing each other, then this chapter is definitely not for you. Otherwise, read on and enjoy! **

**Thanks to Angelpie24 for the review!**

**Chapter Three: Experimentation and Exploration**

Liz and Aiden burst through the door of Aiden's Brooklyn apartment, their heads thrown towards the ceiling in unbridled laughter. "No way!" Aiden said, hitting Liz's arm in disbelief. "You sure we're talkin' about the same Don Flack?!" Liz continued giggling before answering. "I shit you not, my friend. He really used that POS pick-up line on me the first time we met."

"I'm gonna have to remember that one," replied Detective Burn. "I'll ask him on Monday if he found out how Jess likes her eggs done." Still laughing, the two women tossed their coats aside and took a seat. "Oh, before I forget, lemme get you some towels." Aiden disappeared into the bathroom, then reappeared a moment later with a set of red towels and plunked them next to the couch. Detective Burn reached up to her earlobes and took two large silver hoops out, setting them on the adjacent table. "Y'know, hearin' about that weak-ass pickup line makes me think of all the lame stuff I've heard from perps over the years."

"Ha! That's the life of a cop, isn't it? Especially as a woman—scumbags seem to think that just 'cause you have a vagina, you're gonna believe the stupid shit they throw down. So what's your all-time favorite?" Characteristically, Aiden didn't hesitate. "Well, I've interviewed a lot of morons over the years—the DJ promoter who was more interested in checkin' out my ass than answerin' questions. . .this illegal betting ring runner who threatened me outta his pizza joint with a gun, crap like that."

Aiden continued, removing her heels and hugging her knees up to her chest. "But one of the scariest was about three years ago. College girl found some drugs that weren't hers and sold 'em to a couple other students—one died and the other ended up in the ER. Anyway, we snagged the guy who owned the drugs, so I'm processing the dude in the holding cell down at the 1-2. And he's talkin' all tough, you know, 'I wonder how much I could fuck you up,' that kinda thing. I just keep scrapin' his fingernails, but then he tries to hit me."

"Damn," Liz said, giving a low whistle. "What'd you do?"

"I don't even think—I just react. Yank the Tazer off my belt and slam it into his chest. And I'm actin' all bad as he's cryin' and rollin' around on the ground--he says somethin' like 'I can't feel my ribs!' and I go, 'Oh, you will soon—and it's gonna hurt like a bastard!'"

Liz laughed. "Nice."

Aiden shrugged. "Yeah, I dunno. I thought I was bein' pretty smart until later that night. Just got to thinking about how that never woulda happened to one of the boys. At least not in the same way. I realized I was actually pretty freaked out by the whole thing."

"Well, it's pretty normal to be unnerved by a direct physical threat," responded Dr. Ryder. "I'm impressed that you kept your cool enough to get that asshole off you. Not surprised, but impressed."

"Thanks. Man! Why do perps do the things they do, Liz?"

Liz studied Aiden's face intently. "That's one of your favorite questions, isn't it? Why. More so than the other CSIs, I've noticed."

"I can't tell ya how many times Mac and Danny have had to remind me to stick to the evidence and not go off into possible motives. But even though Mac thinks it's not our job to ask why, I just don't agree with him! I mean, each person is so individual. We all have pressure points—people, things or ideas we'd kill for if we're pushed hard enough. I just always wanna know what makes people go over that line! What makes someone take that step from Average Joe to. . .to Murderin' Jane! I don't know."

Smiling knowingly, Liz leaned back against the couch and put her hands behind her head. "The mind is a truly fascinating enigma, Aiden. There are countless situational factors that go into the circumstances of a murder, as you know—economic status, relationship issues, substance abuse problems—but the next layer down from all of those surface trappings is the one I find the most fascinating. What's a person's perception of their own reality? And what about that perception creates the need to take another life?"

Aiden nodded vigorously, using her hands to strike at the air. "See? That's what I'm sayin'! There's so much goin' on inside the brain—so how can we ignore it when we're trying to piece together a murder?" She looked thoughtful for a moment, then continued in her thick Brooklyn accent. "I think my interest in this stuff is probably part of the reason why I love doin' the facial reconstructions. It's like when we're just lookin' at a bare skull, I have a hard time connecting the bones to an actual murderer. But when I put a face on that skull, suddenly I remember why we're chasing down whoever did it. The vic becomes a real person again. Does that make any sense?"

"Of course it does," said the long-legged redhead. "We all need different indicators in order for someone's actions to make sense to us—or, at the very least, make them explicable. You know, you might think about takin' some behavioral psychology classes to supplement your work. With your intelligence and your obvious passion for the subject, you'd make a great student of the psyche. And hey, I betcha you could even get the lab to pay for it!"

Detective Burn looked skeptical. "Yeah, right. I got a short enough leash with Mac as it is." "Don't be too sure, Aid. The phrase 'continuing education' works wonders on most employers."

"We'll see."

"What is that, Brooklyn-ese for 'no fucking way'? C'mon, at least promise me you'll think about it."

"All right, Doc. I promise."

As silence fell over the apartment, Aiden found herself in deep appreciation of the doctor sitting only a few feet away. She knew Liz got paid to listen to people, but had come to see that Dr. Ryder made an extra effort to keep her heart and ears open for her friends. In light of the comforting professional assurance she'd just received, the dark-haired CSI made a quick decision to share something far more personal. _I gotta tell somebody before I go nuts._

"Liz, I gotta question for ya," Aiden said, her voice much softer and unsure than usual. Immediately the good Doctor's brow furrowed, her forehead reflecting instant concern. She shifted her lean body completely towards her friend and said, "Of course, Aiden. What's up?"

Aiden's full lips were pulled into a frown as she stared at the clasped hands in her lap. "You, uh, promise you won't tell anyone?" "You have my word, girl—as a doctor, a friend and a Pats fan I know you'd take any excuse to beat the shit out of." Aiden smiled a little at this, then took a deep breath. "So, have you got a lot of female patients that, uh, swing both ways?"

Somewhere in Aiden's heart she'd known that Liz wouldn't make a big deal out of the inquiry, but the rush of relief she felt when the Boston native didn't laugh or widen her eyes was empowering beyond belief.

"I've got a few, yeah. Most of them are our age, actually. Early thirties-ish, successful career professionals. Some are married, some of 'em aren't. There's a lot more bisexual women out there than you might think."

"Ok. So I guess the question is, how'd they figure out that they were really attracted to both men and women? And more importantly, how'd they accept themselves for what they are?"

Liz's green eyes shone with professional intensity as she delivered her reply. "Well, self-acceptance is an ongoing process for many people who don't see themselves as strictly heterosexual—especially here in the U.S. A lot of my bisexual patients struggle with feeling like there's something wrong with them, like they're stuck in the middle of the sexual identity spectrum and should make a choice one way or the other. They're not totally straight, but they don't feel welcomed by all gay groups either."

"But," Liz went on, not wanting to alarm her friend, "I also have patients who've become much happier after accepting the truth about their sexuality. They feel so much freer to drink in the world around them—to appreciate beauty that stems from any source, not just the one they've been taught to seek out. I've got one woman who says she and her lesbian sister get along so much better now. . .'cause when they go out, they both check out the girls that walk by!"

Aiden laughed, and Liz took the opportunity to reach out for her friend's hand. "Aid, do you think you're bi?"

Detective Burn threw her hands in the air again. "I don't know," she said. "I know I definitely like guys, 'cause I've always been attracted to men. 'Specially black guys. Remind me to tell you about Officer Lilly someday, will ya? Anyway. So yeah, I like guys, but the last couple years or so I've just been noticing women more. I don't—ugh, I'm sorry, Liz," Aiden said, her face flushing. "Here you are down in New York for a vacation and I'm givin' you more work."

Liz gave the beautiful CSI a mock-disgusted _look._ "Babe, this isn't work," she said, firmly. "This is two women talkin' about the shit that life throws our way. Just because I'm a shrink doesn't mean I don't wanna listen as a friend to what you have to say. I'm honored that you trust me with this stuff, okay? Really."

Aiden swallowed hard and nodded. "All right. It's good to get it offa my chest anyway. I, um, I was gonna say that I know I like men, but there's women that I think are pretty hot, too. And it's not like I wanna have sex with girls—I think—I'm just curious. That's all. Just--" (and here she laughed) "um, _appreciative_ and curious."

Liz nodded supportively. "Well, that's good that you can admit your curiosity to yourself. And it's okay to find women attractive without wanting to get in their pants. Sexuality isn't just limited to who we take into our beds—it's about everything that excites us."

Dr. Ryder laughed at herself as she continued in her classic Back Bay inflection. "Don't think I got everything figured out, though, girlfriend. Took me a long time to be comfortable with my own feelings about men and women."

Aiden's eyes met Liz's own, looking like a shy schoolgirl. "Your own feelings about men _and_ women?"

The Doctor put her hands behind her head again and smiled. "Uh-huh. Figured out that I mostly go for the boys, but that there's nothin' wrong with checking out a nice rack or a pair of pretty lips."

"So. . .have you, um, ever kissed a woman, then?"

"Yep," Liz replied. "Two—one in college and one. . .well, you can ask Flack about that one." She grinned wickedly, relishing the widening of Aiden's eyes. "That's beside the point, though. We're talkin' about you. Would you like to try it?"

Aiden's head was spinning a little bit in the wake of such an open conversation, yet she couldn't stem her burning curiosity. "Oh! Well, I dunno. . .is that, uh, okay?" Uncertainty and excitement wove in and out of the strands of her voice, and Liz knew she'd fiercely protect this rare moment of vulnerability in Aiden Burn's life. "Only if you're comfortable with it," she said.

Aiden took a deep breath and pushed it out of her lungs with palpable force. "Yeah, I'd like to try it," she said, nodding more vigorously than she expected. She tucked her hair behind her ears and placed her hands in her lap. Detective Burn's heart smacked firmly against her ribcage, but she somehow regained her sense of humor and grinned. "Lay one on me, Doc."

The twin emerald green eyes in front of her shone with anticipation. Liz was attempting to keep her own feelings under control, but that was a tall order when a gorgeous brunette was waiting for you to provide her with her first girl kiss. Still, she had a responsibility to her good friend, and as such started trying to think of the situation as just a very hands-on therapy session.

"Ok, close your eyes," Liz said. _I hope that didn't sound like an order,_ she thought. _That's a whole separate lesson there. _Her companion obeyed, fluttering long lashes over her big brown eyes. Aiden's beauty was striking—her black hair gleaming in the soft white light of her apartment. The CSI's full lips were slightly parted and shone with a slight hint of pink gloss. Liz coughed, attempting to focus.

Liz rose from her spot at the end of the couch and moved down until she was sitting right next to Aiden. "I'm gonna put my hand on your face, okay?" Aiden simply nodded in response. Dr. Ryder reached out with a pale-skinned hand and lightly touched her fingers to Aiden's strong jawline, producing a sharp inhalation in response. "You all right?" Liz said, a little tentative. "Let me know anytime if you're uncomfortable." "No, it's okay—it's okay. It, um, feels nice."

Leaning in towards Aiden's face, Liz licked her own lips in preparation for meeting her friend's mouth. She brushed a few stray hairs away from Aiden's very pink cheek and stopped to inhale slightly. Hints of jasmine wafted into the air, and Liz relished the presence of such a feminine aroma. Not that she didn't enjoy the intoxicatingly strong scents of vodka and citrus that comprised most men's colognes. . .but a little change never hurt anyone. She softly offered a warning to her friend: "I'm gonna kiss you now, Aid—is that still all right?"

"Yeah," Aiden whispered. "Go for it."

Gently a pair of long pink lips were brushed over a rosy waiting mouth. Taking care not to use her tongue lest she make her friend uncomfortable, Liz moved her mouth first over Aiden's top lip, then moved down and captured the bottom one in a tender embrace. Worried that she'd freaked Aiden out, Liz was about to pull back when she felt wet lips part underneath her own. The brunette that had been shy only moments before felt electrified by the kiss from her trusted friend, and began to kiss back. Aiden was delighted by the feel of Liz's lithe lips and tongue. . .she tasted like peppermint, cold and sweet. As for Liz, she picked up hints of chocolate while exploring Aiden's big, beautiful mouth.

They stayed locked together for a few moments more, and then the two women released one another to come up for air. The kiss had quickened their breathing, and the intense heat stirred within their bodies had flushed both faces a brilliant scarlet. Aiden was the first to speak, shaking her head and sighing. "Whoa!" she said. "O-kay. Wow. Huh."

Sensing her friend's discomfort, Liz tried to lighten the mood. "Man, I bet Flack and the boys woulda loved to see that, huh?" Aiden relaxed, showing off her signature smile. "They woulda lost it," she said, a little more confident now. "But you're not gonna tell them, are ya?"

"Of course not!" Liz exclaimed. "Your skills are safe with me. And by the way, they really are _skills_—you're quite the kisser." The doctor had moved back to the other end of the couch and was lying back on a pillow. Aiden blushed. "Thanks, Doc. You know, you're not so bad yourself."

"So, whaddya think?" Liz asked, delicately. "You gonna expand your menu options?"

Aiden laughed and looked in her lap again. "That's a joke, of course," said the tall redhead. "It'll be an ever-evolving process for you to figure out who you are and who you might like to be with. But I'm always here if you wanna talk about it. . .or, um, if you want any more practice."

The brunette snapped her eyes up to meet the redhead's. _Was she just flirting with me? _Liz regretted the remark as soon as it left her mouth. "Ummm. . .shit. I'm sorry about that, Aid. That didn't really come out like I intended it to." It was the Doctor's turn to be embarrassed now, and she crossed her arms protectively over her chest.

Detective Burn bit her tongue slightly and smiled. "Well, Doc," she said, "the way I see it, ya can't really get an accurate picture of somethin' if you just do it once. I mean, I'm a scientist, right?" She gave Liz a knowing look, adjusted her striped top and moved down the couch. "Absolutely," said Doctor Ryder. "As a licensed psychiatrist and psychotherapist I strongly support multiple clinical trials when it comes to new experiences."

"Look," Aiden said. "I don't want this to mess up our friendship or anything. I guess I figure, I tried it, I liked it—and if you're cool with it, might as well keep havin' some fun just for tonight. It's not like we're gonna get married or anything."

Liz smiled, happy to hear that the pretty brunette felt the same way she did. "Works for me," she said, releasing the pillow and setting it on the floor. "C'mere."

The two women then kissed for the second time that night, banishing with their expressive mouths any worries about what the morning might bring.


	7. Interlude 3

**Author's Note: Never having flown a plane, I am relying solely on the Internet for examples of in-flight emergency procedures, terminology and sample radio communications. Please excuse any glaring inaccuracies. :)**

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Captain Dana Porter silently thanked the British Airways employee responsible for writing the training manual she'd read all those years ago. Although she and her fellow pilots morbidly joked about the "deceased passenger" pages, they were proving invaluable as her 600,000 pound bird continued to cut through the clear blue sky.

She calmly moved through the procedural checklist in her head, commending her exceptional crew for their poise. _Sounds like they had their work cut out for them after that bloody blonde started screaming._ According to her extremely competent ISM Samantha Fuller, a physician on board had examined the gentleman and confirmed his passing. The crew had cleared four rows (thank God the flight wasn't full; she knew the airline didn't want a repeat of Delhi on their hands), laid the body down and covered it with a blanket. Apparently her flight attendants had then wisely begun passing out free drinks to the entire cabin. _Nothing warrants a vodka and tonic like finding a croaked chap in the seat next to you, _she mused grimly. _Especially before breakfast._

The dead bloke's name was Karim Abdullah, traveling alone with a Palestinian passport. Samantha's passenger manifest indicated that he had a one-way ticket, which immediately raised the hackles of every professional on board. Although Dana prided herself on padding her military training with an open mind, she was also acutely aware of the ever-evolving slate of dangers that continued to threaten aviation in the wake of 9/11. She had communicated each piece of information to JFK ATC as it had come in, and was now awaiting approval to continue the 777's flight. An airplane carrying a potential victim—or perpetrator--of terrorism trying to land in New York City meant the Americans had to involve their virtual alphabet soup of government agencies: the FAA, TSA, NYPD and FBI would all have to be contacted and alerted to the situation.

At last a crackle of static burst over the cockpit's primary nav radio, and a heavy Brooklyn accent delivered the verdict: "Speedbird One-One-Four, this is Kennedy Tower. You are clear to continue your original flight path. Further instructions will follow when you are 30 minutes from U.S. airspace. Keep us posted."

Dana swiftly confirmed the course of action. "Roger that, Kennedy. See you on the tarmac." She then turned to her young co-pilot and raised her eyebrows. "Well, Jack, looks like that wanker back there is fuckin' up our sightseeing plans, eh?"

First Officer John Hadley grinned at his captain's crass words. He knew Porter had gone through hell to become one of BA's only female pilots, and that a keen sense of humor was the strongest weapon against all of the macho bullshit in their world. The handsome Liverpool native nodded, shaking his head in feigned disgust.

"Downright rude of the bugger, I'd say."

"Well, I suppose we'll just have to meet Lady Liberty some other time. For now, keep your ear pressed to Sam's mike and keep a written log of her updates. I want to be completely prepared when we meet New York's finest in the hangar."

"Aye aye, Cap'n."

Captain Porter turned to her instrument panel then, ensuring that every gauge, light, lever and button was working properly. Picking up the mike that would broadcast to all of her frightened passengers, she dug deep and depressed the PTT button.

"Ladies and gentlemen," she began in a steady voice, "this is your Captain speaking. . . ."


	8. Names In The Night

**Author's Note: Thanks to those that have taken the time to read and review so far. I so appreciate your encouragement!**

**This chapter is ****very****much**** an M-rated reading experience. If sex and expletives aren't for you, I suggest you take your leave of the page.**

**And of course I don't own anything. If I did, Mr. Cahill, Ms. Vaugier and Mr. Giovinazzo would all be required to do all of their read-throughs shirtless. In my bedroom. **

**Now that we've got that straight, sit back and enjoy (I hope!) the ride! **

**Chapter Four: Names In The Night**

Adam surprised himself at the force with which his lips were consuming Kendall's. His confidence (not to mention a few other things) had grown significantly since they'd hightailed it out of Central Park, letting out lust-crazed laughs the whole way. Now nestled into the back seat of a cab, his hands and mouth were all over her still soaking wet skin. In addition to the quiet grunts she was sending straight into his ears, the sopping tips of her blonde ponytail brushing against his cheek served to heighten his desire even further.

She tasted sweet, but a dark kind of sweet, like chocolate-covered fruit. His mind drifted back to that day in the break room where, over Mac's shoulder, she'd placed a cocoa-powdered truffle between her bright red lips and teased him mercilessly. _Dude, I can't believe I didn't start drooling. I musta looked like Luke starin' at Leia when they met for the first time. _ He'd longed then to know what those lips tasted like--and now, miraculously, he was finding out. Unable to stop himself, he began covering her neck in long and wet open-mouthed kisses.

The cab's other passenger was no passive participant in the make-out session, though. As Adam's red scruff brushed against the sensitive skin near her ear, Kendall reached out and sunk her fingernails into his thick shoulders. She heard him let fly with a cross between a nervous laugh and an erotic growl, and in an instant his lips began moving south from her neck down towards her breasts.

Unfortunately for the very interested driver, the cab came to a stop outside Kendall's apartment building in Chelsea. Before Adam could blink, the blonde siren shifted from under his lips, threw some bills at the driver and jumped out onto West 28th Street. Upon seeing Kendall place her tongue between her teeth, raise her eyebrows and beckon with an outstretched finger, Adam exited the cab as fast as his sizeable erection would allow and chased the now-sprinting lab tech up the brick pathway to her building.

The young lovers buzzed in and impatiently awaited an elevator's arrival. Adam reached out for Kendall once more, but she coyly pushed him away, saying, "Uh-uh, Bambi. You gotta work for it." As they stepped into the elevator at last, Kendall immediately placed herself on the opposite side of the box from her companion. She looked across the elevator and laughed cruelly at the look on Adam's face. Staring at the ceiling with an almost pained expression, the bearded CSI was breathing heavily in an attempt to keep his cool. Just when he thought he'd stemmed the impending tide, he heard a rich alto voice whisper "Adam. . ."

Bringing his gaze downward, Adam was unable to keep from gasping at the sight before him. "Oh dear God," he exhaled, bringing a fist to his mouth. Kendall had taken her hair out of the confines of its ponytail, letting blonde waves softly frame her face. Although he wouldn't mind twisting a few of those flax-colored strands around his fingers, the moan that had escaped Adam's lips was due to where Kendall's own hand was headed. Two of her fingertips were slowly making their way from her throat to the space between her breasts and then down the landscape of her tight torso. She closed her eyes and felt a slight hint of pleasure as her nails lightly grazed a plateau of well-defined abs. As she kept moving closer and closer to the waistband of her bright red panties, Adam found himself unable to speak. Just before her fingers snaked over her clit, the elevator arrived at the 14th floor and the doors opened with a ding. Kendall opened her eyes mischievously, quickly stroked Adam's shorts and then ran down the hall.

Adam shook his head, trying to regain the ability to think after the fiery rush of blood to his pelvis. Once recovered, he took off down the dimly lit hallway in pursuit of his lover. He found Kendall's door open, but could see no sign of the feisty blonde. Gingerly stepping inside the dark apartment, Adam shut the door behind him. The hum of a ceiling fan was the only noise to be heard in the entirety of his surroundings. A rush of cool air hit his bare chest as he passed under the fan, and the resultant hardening of his nipples made his search for Kendall all the more exciting. He called out to her, a little nervous-- but mostly turned on beyond belief. "K-uh, Kendall?" he said, smiling. "Where are ya?"

Suddenly Adam felt a pair of soft hands on his hips and a rush of hot breath on his neck. "Right here," she whispered. He laughed slightly, baring white teeth into the blackness. "Good," he said, suddenly confident again. "I was afraid I'd lost ya for a sec there."

"The only thing you're gonna lose tonight, Adam?" Kendall said, slipping her hands into his shorts from behind, "Is your mind." He tipped his head back and gave in to her teasing, closing his eyes. As his hair brushed against her face, Kendall inhaled the scent of his gel and smiled. Just like Adam, it was a sexy mix of a clean, masculine base and lighter, slightly sweet undertones. She nudged his head forward again with her nose, and upon achieving the desired angle began to cover Adam's neck with her mouth. Her companion felt his legs nearly give way as the feel of her lips set his every nerve ablaze. "Aw, poor baby," Kendall teased in between kisses. "Why don't we sit you down?"

The blonde led her willing prey to the couch and planted a firm kiss on his lips. When she began walking away, Adam managed to worriedly squeak out, "Where—where're you goin'?" She slowly gave him her most devious grin yet and said, "You'll see. Just getting something from the kitchen."

Feeling excitement stir between her long legs, Kendall made the short trip onto the chilly kitchen floor. It was a delicious contrast with the rest of the humid apartment, and she let a delighted shiver ripple through her body. Pulling open the fridge, the sassy lab tech located what she was after and snagged it quickly. Placing the bottle behind her back, she again sauntered into the living room and stood in front of Adam once more. His gaze consumed the length of her body, marveling at every lithe curve.

As Kendall stared back, she couldn't understand why Adam seemed to have such trouble with anxiety at work—for whenever the two of them were together, conversation flowed as easily as solution samples from their micropipettes. He was sweet, caring and funny as hell, even if she'd never give him all those compliments in one sitting. Kendall could see his gorgeous blue eyes gleaming with the rush of desire. . .and his very noticeable hard-on provided even more evidence of the fact that he wanted her badly.

"What's behind your back, there, Ms. Novak?" She took a step towards him and said, teasingly, "Dessert." Slowly, she brought her hands out from where they were resting on her butt and revealed the surprise.

Adam couldn't help but let his tongue slip out of his mouth at the sight of the chocolate syrup before him. He knew some girls weren't down with the food thing, but he'd always wanted to try it. Hell, he'd try anything once—and something told him he was going to enjoy this particular experiment. "Well, since you seem to be in charge of this course, who's gonna eat first?"

"You are."

Uttering nothing else, Kendall took the bottle of ice cream topping and snapped off the plastic top. She opened the nozzle, then proceeded to drizzle the dark, sweet sauce all over the area between her breasts. Moving forward and straddling the incredibly erect man before her, she pushed her chest in his face and waited.

Adam wasted no time. Placing his large hands on her hips, he drew her closer to him and was rewarded with a small gasp as the cold metal of his rings met her skin. He thrust his face between her breasts and began hungrily licking the syrup off her body. His tongue began with small circular motions at the very center of her red bra, but as she began to sigh his strokes became broader and broader, moving ever closer to her collarbone. Finally, he reached the last bit of chocolate, which was lurking next to her right bra strap. Sticking the tip of his tongue under its fabric, Adam took the strap in his teeth and eased it down her shoulder, repeating the process with the left side. Reaching out with his hands, he began to make a move for the back of her bra. Kendall tried to slap his hands away, but Adam wasn't having it. He cocked an eyebrow at her and said, "I'm not finished with dessert yet." She gave him a bit of a surprised look, but quickly recovered, pursing her lips and feigning irritation. "All right, but this better be good."

He reached behind her back and unhooked the clasps of the smooth red cotton, gently sliding the garment off her arms and tossing it behind his head with a naughty look. He stopped for a moment to admire her beautiful pale breasts. About a C/D, if he had to guess. Kendall ever so quietly moaned at the exposure of her nipples to the air, and it was all she could do not to grab Adam's hands and put them where she needed them to go.

As much as Adam wanted to cup her in his hands and rub until she couldn't take any more, he had a game plan to follow. So, grabbing the chocolate sauce off the floor, he opened the bottle once again. Kendall watched as a thin circle of chocolate appeared around her left areola. She was breathing heavily now, anticipating his lips on her tits. The blonde bombshell closed her eyes, and as such was not disappointed when she felt Adam's mouth meet her skin once more. His scruff scraped ever closer to the epicenter of her left breast, an eager tongue wetting every inch of her as he went.

Finally, he reached the sweet sauce and trailed the very end of his tongue around her areola. He stopped for one second to swallow the last of the chocolate, then came down on her nipple with commanding fierceness. "Oh, Adam. . . ." Kendall was becoming increasingly aroused as Adam sucked deeply on her breast. With his mouth still at her nipple, he managed to squeeze some more of the sauce into his left hand and smear it all over the other half of her chest. He reached out with slippery fingers and tweaked her right nipple, preparing it for the same oral treatment. Pulling back for a moment, Adam took in the sight of the panting, chocolate-streaked goddess straddling his legs. Her incredible gray-green eyes flew open, and she breathily demanded, "Why are you stopping?" He grinned and said, "Just wanted to see what the lab's resident genius looks like when she's totally helpless."

Kendall sat back a bit and eyed her companion warily. "Helpless, huh? You want helpless?" She reached down with long fingers and suddenly gripped the waistband of Adam's shorts. "I'll show you helpless." Before he could say a word, she yanked his shorts down enough to expose his cock and shoved it between her lips.

Adam's ensuing shout of pleasure rocketed through the apartment. "Oh sweet Jesus dear God!" She was everywhere--licking the tip of his shaft, surrounding his length with deeply sucking kisses, running her tongue along the throbbing veins. He was losing control quickly; all thoughts had left his head and the only thing that mattered was the beautiful woman driving him insane. Eventually she pulled back and gave him a smug smile. Never breaking eye contact, Kendall took two of her fingers and slid them down her torso. Although he would've been just as happy had she started rubbing her clit, his eyes widened as she pulled a wrapped condom out of her red panties. Holding it up, she uttered the most erotic words Adam had ever heard in his life: "Want some more dessert?"

He responded by trailing his burning hot tongue all the way up over her sticky chest, along her throat and finally into her mouth. She squealed as they launched into an intense kiss, tongues exploring with an increased sense of urgency. His shorts and her underwear found their way to the floor as fast as their shaking hands would allow. Kendall ripped the condom wrapper open with her teeth, but before she could roll the rubber on Adam brought his mouth back to her chest. He hadn't yet had her right breast in his mouth, and chalk it up to OCD if you like—but everything had to be perfectly even. Light flicks from his tongue gave way to slow sucking, and Kendall felt herself getting hot. Getting desperate. She sunk her fingers into his curly hair and moaned, then reluctantly wrenched his head away from her chest. Pushing his back up against the couch pillow, she pinched the top of the condom and slowly rolled it down Adam's shaft. Rising up on her powerful legs, she positioned herself so that she was hovering directly above his cock. He reached out for her breasts and grasped them with his hands, feeling their weight perfectly balanced in his fingers. After one more rough kiss, Kendall slid herself onto him.

They both gasped and moaned at the connection. Each had fantasized about this moment since they'd met, but never did they think it would come to pass. Adam was a little bigger than the other guys Kendall had been with, but she wasn't complaining. And as for Kendall, she felt so hot and tight wrapped around Adam's length. She started to move then, tilting her hips into his own. Every movement she made was pushing him farther towards the edge, farther towards the bliss of release. So that he didn't erupt right there, he thought about the whole night's activities—went back in his mind to the club, then the park, and of course the taxi ride. . .it'd been perfect. And now here she was, grinding on top of him, brushing her tits against his chest and letting her hair fall over his face! _Holy shit! _he thought.

Actually, he didn't just think it; he said it out loud too. "Holy shit, Kendall," he panted. "You—you feel amazing. You're um—makin' me—feel so good." She placed her tongue between her teeth and, in between her own moans said "You ain't seen nothin' yet, Bambi." On the next thrust, she began to clench her walls around his shaft, bringing him to a new level of sensitivity. He let out a groan—it literally felt like she was trying to drain him completely. And it felt so damn good. He felt himself getting close, felt the heat building within his pelvis. It would be so easy to let her ride him into orgasm, and so he started to sit up. . .but then realized he wanted her to come with him. Adam sat back and let her continue enveloping him, her fingers raking his intricate tattoo and tugging at his hair. At last her face began to change, her moans becoming more insistent. "Ohhh, Adam," Kendall said. "Yes—yessssss." She plunged her hands into her blonde hair, feeling so sexy atop her friend and lover.

Pulling Kendall to him, Adam kissed her chest vigorously. The mix of the sticky chocolate sauce residue and her salty sweat was a powerful elixir, and as he lapped it from her torso he could feel himself going over the edge. Their pace quickened, and as the couch began to shake Adam threw his head back. . . .

The ancient elevator in Jess' building was busted again, and so the two Detectives had been forced to hoof it up the stairs. Not that they weren't enjoying themselves, though—Flack's heart thumped in his broad chest as he watched Jess' curvy, perfect ass run up the flights in front of him. She got similarly excited knowing that those striking blue eyes were boring into her back, and so at the next landing she whipped around and shoved him up against the wall. Grabbing his light blue button-down, she attacked with such ferocity that he let out a shocked gasp. But he quickly recovered, wrapping his mouth about her pink lips at a torrential pace. One of his hands slid over the back of her skirt and squeezed, while the other slipped between their bodies and consumed one of her breasts. She broke away from his lips and moaned into his mouth. "Mmmm,_ Flack_," she said, chiding him with a breathy whisper. "Gettin' a little ahead of ourselves, aren't we?"

She didn't wait for an answer, but instead pinned his strong arms against the wall and kissed him again. Just then, one of the building's tenants entered the stairwell, almost hitting Jess in the back with the door. As the two blues kept intertwining their tongues, the man scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Good lord. Get a room." Jess didn't break from Flack's mouth for a second, instead whipping her badge off her belt and shoving it in the intruder's direction. "Okay, okay," came the lisped response. "Damn, the NYPD sure is getting hands-on these days." He took off down the stairs, and Jess took that as her cue to start ever-so-slightly grinding her hips against Flack's jeans. The friction of her black leather skirt pushing against his cock caused him to loll his head back out of the kiss and let out a deep groan. "Unnnnh. . .who's gettin' ahead of herself now, Detective?"

Angell released his right arm long enough to place her hand directly between his legs and stroke upwards in one long, slow, torturous move. "Looks like I'm just gettin' _your_ head, Flack."

"God, woman. . .you are in so much trouble when I get my muscle control back."

"Promise?" She let go of his other wrist and started running up the stairs again. He soon caught up to her, though, and before she knew what was happening he'd grasped her from behind and pushed his big, strong hands underneath her top. He rubbed and caressed her breasts through her bra until her breathing had become nothing more than a series of quick gasps. . .then leaned right up next to her ear and growled, "Oh, I promise, baby—you ain't gonna be able to move when I'm done with you."

As if to prove his point, he turned her around so that she was facing him on the stairs, then placed his hands under her ass and lifted her into his arms. Her skirt parted such that it revealed her strong, creamy inner thighs, and he caught a hint of a pair of lacy panties lying in wait for his fingers. He felt a surge of erotic adrenaline shoot through his body, and his face flushed red with desire. She looked at him then, a wild woman's lust in her glittering brown eyes. "Move it," she ordered, and began consuming his neck with her talented mouth. Flack needed no further prodding. He sprinted as fast up the stairs as one could with a beautiful brunette wrapped around his waist, and upon finally reaching the eighth floor burst into the hallway. Jess stopped sucking on his earlobe long enough to whisper "808," and then went back to driving him crazy with her tongue.

When he reached the appropriate door, he had to stop himself from breaking it down. _Right. Keys. _He detached Jess from his hips, and she began a frantic search through her purse, which was made all the more difficult by her companion's decision to start exploring her breasts again from behind. At last she located her key ring and thrust the door open, promptly flinging both keys and purse on the couch before grabbing Flack's arm and pulling him into her once more.

Don was having trouble believing that his hands and mouth were actually on the woman who'd graced so many of his fantasies. In the two years they'd known each other (even while he was wasting time with Devon), he'd thought of nothing but Jess. How she'd feel on top of him, underneath him, bent over in front of him. To be fair, though, more importantly than his lust for her body was the deep respect he had for her as a kick-ass cop who'd saved his life; actually, it turned him on even more to be attracted to a street-smart, wisecrackin' woman that he knew could drop him in a second if she wanted to.

He turned his full attention back to her glossy hair, those powerful lips, that acrobatic tongue—and of course the two erect nipples that were now pressed against his pecs. Backing Jess into the wall, he ripped himself from her mouth and pushed aside the draping fabric of her top. He buried his face between her breasts and felt a rush of heat to his groin when she moaned in response. His tongue moved as though he were still thrusting it between her lips; so wet, so deep, so fast. Jess hadn't intended on giving him this much control over her body. At least not right away. But when he moved his left hand under her skirt and his right to one of her nipples. . .all the while still taking possession of her chest with his mouth. . .she couldn't handle it anymore. "Shit, Don," she gasped. "What're ya tryin' to do to me?"

He stopped all movement for a second, leaving her body begging for more. Pulling his head out of her chest, he looked at her with those twin pools of crystal blue and said, "I'm gonna make you scream tonight, Jess."

His words sent an electric shock through her veins, but she couldn't relinquish all power just yet. Friend or not, Jess never let a man make all the rules when it came to sex. Reaching out with a smooth hand and grabbing Flack's belt, she yanked him forcefully into her body. Slowly, she licked her other hand, plunging it directly down his pants and grabbing his cock. He sucked in sharply and grunted, resting his palms against the wall. "Mmmph. Jesus, Jess. . . ."

She laughed evilly and kept twisting her palm around his huge dick. "What'd you say, Flack? What was that about _me_ screaming tonight?" Angell stood on tiptoe and whispered into his ear. "'Cause if I have anything to say about it, _you're _gonna be the one yelling _my_ name while I fuck you."

Jess could feel Flack's cock jerking wildly, and so just as he was about to get close she suddenly extracted her hand from his pants and began casually walking down the hall. She turned around, taking great delight in seeing the usually-cocky Detective struggling for breath. "Well, Flack? You comin' or what?" He gave her a hungry look, and pulling a pair of handcuffs from his jeans said, "Uh-uh, Jess. _You're _the one who's comin'." Her eyes widened delightedly and she broke into a run towards her bedroom, giggling. Flack followed at a leisurely pace, brandishing the handcuffs and feeling himself go into overdrive at the thought of a naked and tied up Jessica Angell.

She was waiting for him on the bed when he sauntered into her room, twirling the handcuffs around his long left index finger. His massive erection was still straining against his pants, and Jess thought about how it had felt in her hand a few moments before. She couldn't wait to have it between her wet and waiting legs. But there was still time to play. "Whatcha gonna do with those, Detective?"

"I got a 10-50 on my hands here," he said, pursing his full lips. "Got no choice but to hook you up." Jess feigned shock and surprise. "A 10-50? What ever could I have done that would constitute disorderly conduct?" As she spoke, she slowly eased her maroon top up over her head, revealing a black and white strapless bra. After staring at her graceful neckline for a few seconds, Flack shook his head and pretended to flip though an imaginary case book. "Yeah, here we go. My notes say the suspect repeatedly stroked an extremely horny Detective's dick, then fled the scene, leaving the hard-working cop completely incapacitated." Jess shrugged. "It's not my fault said Detective can't handle a little foreplay."

Flack rolled his eyes. "Ma'am, please don't interrupt," he said, clearing his throat and trying to sound official. "The law dictates that I gotta punish you for what you did."

"Psshht." Jess pretended to be annoyed, then unzipped her skirt and seductively kicked it onto the floor. "And what sentence have you concocted for this bullshit charge?"

Flack was speechless at the sight of his colleague in nothing but lingerie. Her breasts strained against the tight cups of her bra, and as he followed the defined lines of her abs down her body he relished the fact that this gorgeous goddess was taking her clothes off just for him. As his eyes came to rest on the matching black and white panties hugging the tight contours of her ass, it was all he could do to keep from coming just by looking at her.

_But I'm not done playin' yet. Not by a longshot. _Don unbuttoned his shirt, then tossed it aside. Jess' façade of cool cracked a bit at the sight of Flack sporting only jeans and his trademark white undershirt. Bulging, v-cut deltoids to scratch and bite. . .hard biceps worthy of fingernail marks. . .and a chest that was begging to be licked from top to bottom. "It seems," he said, "that the only way for you to truly learn your lesson is to taste some of your own medicine."

She flew into a mock rage. "This is ridiculous! I want a lawyer!"

"I don't wanna hear it, Ms. Angell," he said, now standing authoritatively above her. "Hands over your head. Now."

Jess never figured she'd be turned on by a domineering man, especially not when the guy was NYPD. She dealt with sexist assholes all day on the job—just one of the many fringe benefits of being a female Detective. So she worried for a second that giving into Flack when he was acting this way would make her less of a strong woman. Less of a respectable police officer. _Fuck that,_ she thought. _I'm a good cop and a tough chick on top of it. I trust Flack. Besides, I could drop him in a second if I had to. And he knows it._

"Make me," she hissed.

_Ok, here we go,_ Flack thought. _Hope she doesn't punch me. _Lust quickly overcame any traces of rationality left in his brain, and so he barely felt his own hands reach out for her body. In one swift motion, he picked her up, pushed her hands around one of the bedposts and slapped the cuffs around her wrists. Jess gave a surprised and excited squeal—it happened so fast she barely had time to react. She looked above her head at her cuffed hands, struggling a little for dramatic effect. "This is police brutality!" she shouted. "I'm gonna file a complaint!"

He slid off the bed for a moment, stepping back to admire his work. Never taking his eyes away from hers, he began to undress. His pants hit the floor with a _thud_, followed closely by the ribbed undershirt. Tight blue boxers barely contained Flack's huge cock, and Jess felt another shiver rush through her body at thought of them moving in unison. "Flack--" she started, a hint of whimpering in her voice.

Flack put a finger to his big, gorgeous lips. "Shhhhhh, Ms. Angell. Save your breath. I'm gonna make you come so hard you won't even be able to talk. So forget about complainin'."

So saying, he clambered back onto the bed and sat back so that his calves met his hamstrings. He slowly swept his eyes over every inch of her beautiful body, stopping now and then to curse appreciatively and shake his head: "Mm! Damn, woman." Jess was desperately trying to hold it together, but something about the way he was drinking her in with his eyes was unraveling her, breath by halting breath. She could feel her clit start to swell, and so to relieve the pressure she slowly spread her legs apart. "See something you like, Officer?"

"Ma'am, I'm tryin' to conduct a thorough investigation here," he said, reaching out and placing his huge hands on the waistband of her panties. As he spoke, he began easing the black and white underwear off her legs. She inhaled sharply at the feel of his fingers on her slightly trembling skin. "Now be quiet 'til you feel like screamin' my name." Jess furrowed her brow and kicked at him a little bit. "I got some damn cocky beat cops in my apartment these days, huh?"

"I said **be quiet**," he growled. Ripping her panties from her legs he straddled her waist with his huge quads and consumed her mouth with a kiss. His hot tongue felt different than it had earlier in the evening—it was massaging hers more insistently now. As though he was one whisper away from giving into absolute desperation. He could keep his hands from her no longer, and so as they kept kissing he ran his fingers over her strong chest and down to the garment keeping him from her breasts. Both of his hands curved around the black and white floral pattern until they met to undo the series of hooks. Whipping the bra off with a flourish, he tossed it on the floor and then paused once more to take her in. Her naked body shone in the moonlight that was streaming through the bedroom window, softly framing her full, firm breasts.

Jess was getting restless between Flack's legs, and as a result reached up with one of her silky legs, stroking the length of his cock through his boxers. He looked down at her, shaking his head. "Is somebody not gettin' what she wants?" he asked, teasingly. "I'm sorry, darlin'. You'll just hafta wait." Undeterred by the ensuing pout on Jess' lips, Flack bent his head to her chest and began placing deep, wet kisses on her throat. Moving south, he reached the space directly between her breasts and stopped to graze the area with his slightly stubbled chin. Jess' nipples hardened even further in response and she shuddered slightly, the metal of the handcuffs smacking against the bedpost. "Hmmmm," Flack mused out loud. "Do I go right or left first? 'Cause I've heard that the left one's usually bigger, but the right one's s'posed to be more sensitive. Decisions, decisions. . .huh. Does the perp have an opinion?" He grinned sadistically at the grunt that erupted from above his head. Jess gasped, "Flack, I swear to God, if you don't start sucking on something right now, I'm gonna kill you."

He clucked his tongue at her. "You're in no position to make threats, Ms. Angell. But you sure are hot when you're pissed." He returned his wet lips to her skin, moving to his left. While his mouth took eons to approach her nipple, his right hand began trailing up her left leg. Those long fingers clutched at her muscular calf. . . lightly brushed against her wet inside thigh. . .explored the elegant curve of her slightly arched hip. . .ran between her ribs and then finally reached the underside of her left breast. Meanwhile, Jess forgot to breathe as Flack came ever closer to putting her completely erect nipple in his mouth. She snuck a look at him then, amazed at the intensity with which he was going about pleasing her. Most of the jerks she'd been with had been good for a few tit squeezes, an ass slap and then a short fuck. But not Don. He was clearly enjoying every single second of taking his time with her.

Just then, his mouth and hand overtook their respective conquests at the same time, and Jess let out a moan at the delicious contact. As his powerful lips slowly sucked at her right breast and thick fingers rolled around her left nipple, the earlier swelling of her clit turned into outright throbbing. She began to wrap her legs around his hamstrings, and would have reached out to clutch at his muscular back had she not been cuffed. "Mmmmmhh," she moaned, running her tongue over her mouth. "That feels good." He looked at her and frowned. "You shouldn't be able to talk," he said. "Guess I gotta work harder." He switched breasts with his mouth and hand, rubbing, licking and sucking faster now. His lover's head had begun to thrash from side to side as his ministrations started a raging fire between her legs. She bit her lower lip and gasped as she felt his mouth detach from her nipple. . .and begin heading even further south.

Flack loved the feel of her abs under his lips. So cut and strong, but soft and feminine at the same time. He zig-zagged his tongue from her ribs down to her sensitive navel, then kept going until he reached her waist. Slowly, he placed a line of kisses from one hip to the other, then looked up at Jess' face. Her eyes were closed, their brown brows furrowed in the erotic frustration of yet-unrequited lust. "Jess," he whispered. "What?" she snapped, breathless. He smiled, knowing he'd been responsible for turning his level-headed colleague into this crazed she-wolf. "I just wanna check. S'okay if I kiss you down here?" She somehow managed to give him a smirk. "I thought pissed-off unis didn't ask for permission."

"Maybe they don't, but I do."

"Uncuff me first. Then kiss me."

"I dunno. . .how do I know you're not just gonna jump me the second I let ya out?"

"You really think I'd pass this up just to fuck your teasing ass?"

"Ooh, ouch, Detective. That one hurt." Flack moved from his position between Jess' hips to the nightstand and grabbed the cuff key. Leaning up over his bedmate's head, he unlocked the handcuffs and took her wrists in his hands, gently kissing the red marks left by the unyielding metal. Angell smiled at the sight of his lips on her tattoo, but quickly took control. "All right, that's enough babying." She lay back against one of her light blue pillowcases, spread her legs and ordered, "Get your face down there. Now."

Flack feigned a scared look and saluted. "Yes, ma'am." He kissed her passionately again before extracting his tongue from her mouth and running it all the way down the length of her body. Upon reaching the dark curls covering her vulva, he began a series of light kisses over the soft hair. He reached the limits of her outer lips, and delicately began running his tongue along their curves. She tasted fan-tastic. . .he couldn't quite pinpoint what made him think of this, but she tasted like New York to him. _Beautiful. Hard. Tough, but sweet if ya know where to look._ Don tipped his head to the side just a bit and moved in to take both of her inner lips into his expressive mouth, eliciting a deep sigh from the headboard. "Ummmh, Flack. . . ." He kissed her inner labia like he had kissed her mouth, lightly sucking and darting his tongue between their lines. Her wetness was beginning to find the defined cheekbones of his face, and he took that as a challenge to see if he could soak her even further.

Don then moved his tongue into Jess as far as he could get it, and when he was sufficiently pleased with the resulting gasps he slowly withdrew--then moved up to her clit. Pressing the tip of his tongue flat against the tight bundle's skin, he began to make slow, wet circles. Angell's breathing quickened, and Flack could hear her begin to grip the sheets tightly in her hands. Her companion's tongue seemed to be isolating every nerve with great expertise. . .she could feel herself losing all rational control over her body. She reached down to her breasts and began rolling her still-wet nipples between her fingers, producing deeper moans. This turned Flack on even further, and so he began rapidly working the entirety of the beautiful world between her legs, moving from clit to pussy and back again. Her inner thighs begin to shake, and she was beginning to accept utter helplessness when she suddenly sat up, pulling herself from Flack's face. Don looked up at her, confused. "Jess, you o--" he started to ask. But he never got a chance to finish the question. Panting, she ordered, "On your back."

He didn't know whether to be worried or to want her even more. "Ya sure? Did I do somethin' wrong?"

She smiled, grateful for his concern. "Trust me. You were doing everything right. I just think it's time to stop playin' around and put this--" (and here she fiercely gripped Flack's cock, eliciting a groan from the built Detective) "—where it belongs."

"I couldn't, uh, umph—couldn't agree more," he stuttered. Jess pushed him back onto his shoulder blades and practically tore his boxers off, leaving nail marks on the sides of his legs. Bending her head towards his pelvis and sticking her tongue out, she ran a long lick up the underside of his shaft and then back down the front. "Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Jess," Flack hissed. "You keep that up and I'm gonna lose it right here." "Aww, is the big tough policeman feeling a little sensitive?" she queried, sticking two fingers between her legs and then rubbing them on the swollen cock in front of her. "Does he need a break?"

Flack's blue eyes surged with lust as he sat up and grabbed the hot, naked brunette perched over his pelvis. He pulled her up to his chest, stared into her deep brown eyes and insisted, "Hell. No."

"Good," she purred, suspending herself over his waiting dick. Jess nodded to the nightstand, saying, "You wanna do the honors--since you outrank me?" He reached out with a muscular arm, tore open the drawer and searched until he found a Trojan. Flack made swift work of ripping the condom package open and rolling the rubber on, and when he was ready Jess parted her folds, sinking down onto his shaft with a sigh.

She threw her head back and let a cry escape to the heavens. "Shiiiiit! Oh God, Flack, you're huge. . .that feels so damn good." Don felt a bolt of energy surge through his veins as he and Jess locked together. It felt incredible to finally have her wet pussy wrapped so strong and tight around his cock. From her head down to her spread legs, her body was stunning. _Absolutely fuckin' perfect. _"Jess, you look so sexy right now," he gasped, sounding more like a horny teenage boy than the sarcastic grown man that he was.

Before he could say anything else, she began to slowly move her hips. The simple motion sent pangs of pleasure rocketing through the lovers' point of connection, and they both moaned deeply in response. Flack wished he had at least four hands, because he wanted to touch every part of her while she straddled him. Hair, breasts, abs, ass, clit— his fingertips needed to feel them all. However, since her breasts were closest to his face at the moment, he decided to send his hands there first. She closed her eyes and bit her lip again as she rode him—his shaft shoved between her legs and those big hands rubbing her breasts were teaming up to make her face flush. "Mmmmmhhh, Don. . .ohhhhh. . .oh, God, just like that. . .hell yeah. . . ." They continued moving together, Jess' pace increasing as she saw the effect she was having on Flack. "Unnnh, Jess, you feel so fuckin' good," he panted. "Whatever ya do, don't—mmmmh—don't stop."

She was slamming into his dick now, loving the sensation of him filling her completely. Clenching her walls around him as she continued to thrust, Jess let her mouth hang open as she gazed at the hot, ripped cop underneath her. _I could sure as hell get used to this, _she thought. It wasn't enough for Flack to only have his hands on her breasts, so he sat up against the headboard and took one of her nipples straight into his mouth. One hand went to her ass as he jammed the other underneath her clit—and the effect was electric. Jess screamed and moaned as he played with her body: "Umhhhh, Flack, I'm close. I'm so close. Don't stop. . .don't stop!"

Flack could feel himself getting ready to come as well—could feel the built-up pressure in his cock just begging for release. She was so wet and so hot around him, and he wanted to see her lose control. He started talking to her then in the deepest, sexiest voice she'd ever heard. "Come on, baby," he said, licking her nipples and gently pulling her long hair. "Come on, Jess. You know you wanna come for me. You look so hot fuckin' me right now. I love bein' so deep inside of you. . .just let it go, Jess. Come for me."

Don's whispers sent Jess completely over the edge. Just as he began to moan and spill into the condom inside of her, her entire body began to shake. Angell's breasts, clit and pussy all exploded with pleasure, and she succumbed to the waves of heat engulfing her entire being. . . .

Messer unlocked his front door and stepped into the dark expanse before him. He flung his keys angrily towards the couch, disgusted at what a damn pussy he'd been back in the car. _Four years of dreamin' about Maka's fine ass and I blow it over a country girl? Fuck! _Danny swept his gaze over to the pool table and saw the pages of Montana's goodbye letter scattered over the green felt. _**"There's no way you're gonna make that shot, Montana."**__**"A Benjamin says I do."**_He tried to push the memories of that sweet night out of his mind, wondering how he and Lindsay could've gone from early morning whispers to late night fights in such a short period of time. _I gotta get her outta my head. That laugh, those eyes, the 'take no shit' attitude she used to have. . .fuhgettaboutit. _

Efforts to shut out her cute smile, however, fell short as his eyes came to rest on the kitchen counter. Images of Rikki washed over his carefully guarded heart—standing there in front of him with his shirt grazing her tanned thighs, those pained brown irises seeking solace in her volatile yet alluring neighbor. "_**Before my son died, you were just a guy I smiled at in the hallway. And joked with at the mailboxes. What are we doing?**_" He'd placed Ruben's mother in an awful situation; he hadn't even told her about Lindsay, yet she ended up being the final wedge driven between Detectives Messer and Monroe. Danny knew Rikki's moving was probably for the best, but he still felt a twinge of pain every time he passed her now-empty apartment. He could still hear her soft voice in the hallway, reddish-brown hair draped perfectly around her face: "_**Don't say you're sorry. Just say goodbye**_**."**

_Goodbye, huh? _Danny thought to himself. That one simple word shifted his cluttered mind from Rikki to Kaile in an instant. The tiny but tough Detective had been a horrible tease tonight, successfully riling him up to the point where his tongue practically got up and followed her out of the Alfa. _**"Besides, when you're finally in bed with me you won't be able to think about anybody else anyway."**_

_Too many women, _Messer thought. _Too many fuckin' women. When they're not up and runnin' away from me, they're playin' shrink and tellin' me to figure my shit out._ He nudged his glasses up his nose with a knuckle and blew out a huge sigh. He was damn tired, and for a moment wished the female of the species didn't even exist. Only then did he remember the conspicuous bulge straining against his form-fitting Hurley jeans. "Aw, for cryin' out loud!" he said, looking down at his package. "You're such a goddamn teenager." Danny decided that the only way to get all of the chick bullshit out of his head was to wash the day off, and shrugged his leather jacket from his shoulders as he entered the bedroom.

After removing his silver-rimmed glasses, Messer reached down and grasped at his black Fred Perry polo shirt, the motion flexing his solid biceps. Pulling the slightly sweaty garment up over his head, he tossed it haphazardly into a corner of the bedroom. He closed his grey-blue eyes for a moment, grasping at ridiculously tight neck muscles with strong palms. _Montana had good hands. . .always knew how to get my knots out. _Danny shook his head furiously and shouted at the air: "No, dammit! You wanted ta leave, so ya left—fine! Now leave me alone, ya hear me? LEAVE ME ALONE!**"** These last three words he emphasized by slamming a fist into the rumpled folds of his bed. He'd rather have heard the satisfying crunch of splitting plaster between his fingers, but didn't feel like sending his landlord any more dough. _Fat bastard makes a fuckin' mint off me already_.

Messer furiously tore off his white undershirt, exposing his ripped torso to the apartment's warm air. The dark wash jeans came next, balled up and thrown in the same direction as his two shirts. He got even angrier as he reached his stained black boxer briefs and viewed evidence of the effect Kaile had produced with her kiss. He grabbed the tight waistband and thrust it down his toned quads, then walked into the bathroom.

The blue and white tile on Danny's bathroom floor was cold, but that didn't seem to deter his massive hard-on from stabbing out in front of him. Reaching out and shoving the shower curtain aside, he turned on the water and stepped into the bathtub.

Initially he'd intended to make his shower a cold one, but his screaming neck muscles insisted otherwise. Messer closed his eyes and let the spray of warm water glide over his face—felt the soothing drops soak his gelled hair and rough stubble. The shower streams flowed down two cut pecs and over his tattooed shoulder. . .snaked along chiseled abs and curved around his tight ass. The metal of two wet dog tags hung heavy on his tired skin, and he chided himself for whining like a little girl. His beloved grandfather hadn't risked everything on the battlefield so Danny could bitch about his problems with women. _Mi dispiace, Nonno_.

Messer gave in to the power of the water and soon relaxed. The anger he'd been carrying in his chest slipped away under the shower's flow, and he felt himself soften slightly. He shifted to reach down for the soap, but the new angle of his body was such that the water suddenly enveloped his cock in delicious liquid heat. He rested his head against the shower wall and moaned as he hardened once more, opening his mouth to let in some of the spray.

A certain beautiful woman came into his mind then. _Gorgeous chocolate-colored eyes stared into his mesmerized face, and a wicked smile crossed her flawless lips. She placed her mouth forcefully over his own and demanded entrance with her tongue. _

Danny reached down with his right hand and grasped his wet dick tightly. Slowly five strong fingers began moving in unison along the impressive length of his shaft. Messer grunted loudly as he braced himself against the shower wall, the water still pelting him with slippery warmth.

_Perfect teeth nipped and teased his ears, then suddenly moved south. She roughly bit each of his darkened nipples, then raked her nails all the way down his rock-hard stomach, leaving fresh red marks in her wake. She was undeterred by his gasps—instead, in one swift motion the brown-haired beauty dropped to her knees and took him all the way into her mouth. _

"Unnnh, shit," he panted as his hand began moving faster. "Fuck. . . ." Danny could feel the tension building deep within his heavily breathing body, the rising anticipation pumping his heart faster as his hand's speed increased. He could practically see her in front of him on the shower floor, her mouth on his dick and her fingernails embedded into his thighs.

_She explored every inch of his shaft, swirling her tongue around the tip before grazing her teeth across its underside. She looked so hot with her eyes closed, in total control of not only his cock but his entire world. Speeding up in her licking and sucking, she was weakening the smartass cop from Staten Island—pushing him to the very edge of release such that he began to beg. "Oh, baby, please," he groaned, tangling his fingers in her hair. "Don't stop."_

Danny screwed his eyes shut and spread his legs wider as he pumped away furiously. He could feel himself begin to sweat from the combination of such intense exertion and the cloud of steam kicked up by the shower's relentless downpour. He could feel her lips everywhere, bringing him so close to exploding in her hot, wet mouth.

_He threw his head back and moaned as she moved even faster. His entire body felt as though it burst into flame, willingly succumbing to the wild goddess between his legs. At last he could hold back no longer, and as he began to spill into her full lips, a full-blown scream erupted from his throat. . . ._

Three yells pierced the thick summertime air of New York City at the exact same time that night.

On a creaking couch in Chelsea, land of keggers and Kandinsky: "Oh—my—God—yes, Kendall, oh God yeah. . .I'm coming—I'm coming—Ohhhhhh!"

From a queen-sized bed in Astoria, where pitas, Prada and the projects can all be found: "Mmmhhh—Oh god, Flack, you feel so good inside me—oohhh—oh, yeah—don't stop—oh Jesus, Don, yes! Yes! YES! YES! Ummmmmmmmhhhh!"

And straight out of a shower in Hunts Point, territory claimed by Fox and filled by Fulton Fish Market: "Unnnnhh—fuck—oh, shit—Aiden!"

Danny slumped to the shower floor, soaked and confused.

_Aiden?_


	9. Departmental Procedures

**Author's Note: I deeply apologize for the huge gap between updates. . .I suppose that's what happens when life (read: new job) gets in the way of writing! I know this is short, but I want to keep the story moving. **

**My continued thanks to hopes4all and dawn2323 for their wonderful support. I wouldn't keep going were it not for you two! :) **

**Enjoy! **

**  
Chapter Five: Departmental Procedures**

As morning met the skyline of New York City once again, Flack opened his eyes to find sunlight cutting through tiny gaps in the bedroom curtains. Gazing downward at his broad chest, Don was rewarded with a beautiful sight: the long, lean limbs of Jess' gorgeous body draped over his skin. The peaceful look on her slightly smiling face gave him a sense of pride—he knew he'd made her feel good the night before, and makin' a woman like that scream his name was an achievement all in itself.

Making sure to move only his eyes so as not to disturb her, he scanned over to the bedside clock and was immediately panicked by what he saw--**8:23**. "Jess! Jess, wake up!" he exclaimed, shaking her shoulders. She jolted from slumber with wide brown eyes, alarm quickly giving way to irritation. "Jesus, Flack!" she chided, cuffing him upside the head. "You scared the crap out of me! What's wrong?"

Don gestured to the clock with expressive black eyebrows. "You're late." He expected her to freak and jump out of bed, but she just smiled at him knowingly. "Oh, that. Well, much as I appreciate you trying to keep me honest, I already took care of it earlier."

A look of confusion painted itself upon the blue-eyed Detective's features. "Whaddya mean, ya 'took care of it'?" Jess' punctuality and attendance were legendary around the 1-2—being the only woman in the precinct meant she had to work twice as hard for half the credit.

Angell moved forward so that she was straddling Flack's impressive quads with her silky thighs. Leaning in and kissing a spot just below his left ear, she tipped her lips upward and whispered, "I figure if I finally get a chance to spend the day in bed with a hot co-worker, I might as well take my first sick day to do it."

Flack felt a rush of energy shoot through his body as his sleepy brain put all the pieces together. _So last night wasn't just a random hook-up. . .she's takin' the whole damn day off to spend it with me! Guess all those times I thought I had no game musta gone in my favor. I better show her she ain't makin' a mistake. _With a smile on his face, he wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her into his chest.

"Well, Detective Angell," he grinned, "if you're callin' in sick we better check you out—y'know, see what's ailin' ya." He leaned in to kiss her deeply, and the ensuing meeting of their mouths seemed to last forever before she finally broke away. Easing herself out of Flack's lap, Jess turned around and propped herself up on all fours. Her beautiful lips began slowly teasing his inner thighs, inching ever closer to what lay between his legs. She looked over her shoulder and flashed a wicked smile at the muscular cop that was quickly becoming wrapped around her little finger.

"The thing is," she said, bending over his pelvis again and just barely touching her tongue to his shaft, "if I'm sick, you may be coming down with it too."

Flack's eyes threatened to roll back in his head as his bedmate's talented mouth began to surround his sensitive tip. He barely heard himself utter, "Oh Jesus, Jess. . ." as she drew light, wet circles all along the top of his rapidly hardening erection. Before he let himself get too carried away, though, he wanted to make sure she was gonna do a little moaning of her own. Slowly he rolled them so they were both lying on their left sides. . .and reaching out for the smooth skin of her thighs that now lay not far from his face, he gently parted her legs. Gazing down the bed at the length of Jess' body, he almost shook his head in disbelief that he was actually here, in Angell's apartment, about to make love to her for the second time in twelve hours.

He cleared his throat and regained a small shred of control. "Hmmmm," he said, pretending to seriously consider the situation. "Well, I'll start up here, n' you can check down there, and maybe--" (here he bent in to kiss her wetness) "—just maybe we'll figure this out."

She sighed at the feel of his tongue on her clit and shuddered in anticipation of more. "That's very thorough of you, Detective Flack."

Jess' words were the last said between the two colleagues. Soon the brightening room was filled with the sighs and moans of two lovers pleasing each other to the deepest point of connection—a connection that was becoming much more than simple squad-car flirting.

*

A scowl crossed Mac Taylor's stark features as his black shoes met the hangar floor. After ducking under yellow crime scene tape, his stormy grey-blue eyes fell upon a massive collection of feds swarming about. Blue jackets with bold letters announcing the presence of the FBI, TSA and DHS in were fixed in place around a metal staircase leading up to the grounded airplane._ Typical,_ he mused to himself. _A big show of force standing around doin' nothin'. Well, that stops right now._

Mac cleared his throat confidently. "Gentlemen--ma'am," he said, nodding to the lone female official. "Mac Taylor, NYPD Crime Scene Investigator. Who's in charge here?"

One of the DHS jackets turned around and cracked his gum at Mac. "I am," said a tall, slightly balding Latino. Mac offered his hand, but was not met with similar courtesy. "Garcia. Looks like we got an H-to-S on our hands. I was just about to make the call to my boss for the switch."

Mac held up a hand. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. We haven't even examined the body or the crime scene and you're gonna raise the Threat Level just like that?!"

Garcia scoffed. "Keep your city nose outta this, Taylor. The United States Government knows what it's doin'."

Before Mac could retort, he heard the clicking of quickly-moving heels and an authoritative voice ringing out behind him. "Stella Bonasera, NYPD," the lab's Greek goddess said in a clipped voice. "Well, Garcia, looks like this city nose just got authorization from the FBI to get ya to stand down on the Threat Level change." She shoved a piece of paper in Garcia's face and flashed him a bitchy look, causing the female TSA official to stifle a laugh.

The DHS g-man was furious. "On what grounds?!" he demanded.

"Oh, I don't know," Stella snarked back, tipping her head to the side and pretending to contemplate her answer. "Maybe something about not wanting to panic people unnecessarily?! Or jump to conclusions without supporting evidence?" She grabbed Mac's elbow and began leading him up the stairs. "C'mon, Mac—let's go solve a murder."

Garcia made a futile attempt at a retort. "The second I hear anything different from the fibbies I'm comin' up there and yankin' you out personally, Bonasera."

"You do that," Stella snarled. "It'll probably be the first real work you've done in a while."

Upon reaching the top of the staircase and entering the plane, Mac turned to his partner and grinned. "Sure am glad you and your nose got here when you did."

Stella patted Mac's shoulder and smiled. "Hey, somebody's got to save your job security."

"I just get so damn tired of all the bureaucratic bullshit with the feds," Mac grunted. "Obviously I understand the need to protect our country, but not at the expense of science."

"Well," replied the gorgeous CSI at his side, "let's go see what our vic died at the expense of."

* * * * *


End file.
